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“You’d be asking that I lie,” he said starkly.

His scent changed again, nearly entirely wisteria now. I bit back the embarrassing noise trying to slip past my lips, drawn from some deep part of me that understood at a visceral level what, exactly, that change meant.

How ironic that I spent my childhood and early adulthood desperate for one person to be truthful and moral beyond the superficial niceties given from fear of being chastised just to find that person in another world, and he was determined to send me back home in order to maintain his morality. Bounced once again by the exact type of person I’d begged any god that might have heard me for.

“Right. Of course.”

By some miracle, I kept the bitterness out of my voice.

“Shall we join the others for breakfast?” he asked, uncrossing his arms so he could hold one out to me in invitation. Wordlessly, I eased my hand into the crook of his elbow like I was a debutante from Regency England and not… well, me.

One more bounce. I could handle one more, I told myself as he led us across the snowy expanse separating the two buildings.

At least, I hoped I could.

Callum didn’t say anything as he opened the heavy wooden door and carefully ushered me inside the larger building. Before I could take in any of the space, the din of conversation buffeted me. What must be most of the traveling group sat around a large table built from pushing several small ones together, laughing and chatting. Multiple of the larger fire jars sat nestled on the few tables that hadn’t been moved, filling the far corners of the large room with light even as the gray morning light from outside was doing its best to warm the main areas. None of the worn exhaustion that had clung to the group over the last several days was anywhere at all, the weight all together gone from the group.

Joseph tipped his head back and laughed at something Phillip said, and Hugh wrapped an arm around his waist, kissing behind his ear. Tabitha’s wings fluttered behind her as she twisted in her stool, saying something to Monique that was drowned out by the overall noise. Shelby rolled her eyes as she adjusted a small pin in her hair already braided into a coronet, the metal flower resting between two stitches of the braid even as she smiled at something Vincent said. Amaria smiled, too, before taking a drink from a pewter cup. Even the guards who had separated from the main group to fight the urgul were laughing and joking despite the exhaustion that limned their faces.

Something way too close to envy crept up my sternum, stealing my breath before I could shove it into one of those boxes that were starting to rattle, attempting to break free and force me to unpack them.

The door fell shut behind Callum with a heavy thud, cutting through the din nearly as effectively as a gun shot. Most of the group looked up, their attention shifting to us even as their cheerfulness stayed unwavering. Shelby and Amaria were quick to adjust their chairs, moving until there was a space for Callum and me. Callum kept a careful touch on my elbow as I eased onto the chair beside Amaria and adjusted the long dress before I could step on the hem and rip it. Then he took the open seat to my left, sliding into the small space without touching Vincent or me at all.

Reuben leaned around Vincent, his eyes soft but his mouth a flat line. The fires sitting on the table reflected off the dark tattoo on his neck, similar to that first morning I awoke in his tent. My gaze caught on the swirling vines and lotus flower, and that twisting mess of emotion rose again, pushing against the box until it felt like it would burst open and explode everywhere, right in front of all these people.

“You are well?” Reuben asked.

It felt like the entire table narrowed its focus on me. The weight of their attention made me want to puke, even more than the swirling, roiling mess I’d become since last night.

“I’m fine,” I managed to say, my voice cracking.

Amaria looped her fingers around my wrist as Callum adjusted in the seat, his own movements careful, too, like he didn’t want to accidentally touch me. I swallowed down the conflicted reaction that tried to rise in me.

Reuben asked, “Your ankle, as well? Callum said you were still having pain yesterday while we rode.”

Oh. That was why Callum was being so careful.

I nodded quickly. “It’s much better.”

People approached the long table, their arms full of platters and bowls overflowing with food. Most were arranged in the center of the table, spread along the length of wood so the various dishes were reasonably accessible. With a murmured word, Vincent pulled a ceramic plate and began spooning one of the dishes that looked just like mashed potatoes onto it. Before I could reach for one of the stacked plates, two new people approached, large platters held carefully in their arms, laden with even more food. Without a word, Callum circled my wrist, keeping me immobile. Despite everything, goosebumps raced up my arm. Orange slowly wove around me, and I nearly blushed.

The two people set the large platters in front of Callum and me, dispersing the citrus perfume, and then dropped into small bows.

“Thank you,” Callum murmured as they straightened.

I quietly mirrored him. Hopefully someone would poke me or something if I was doing something wrong. The woman nearest me smiled softly, her cheeks flushing. I vaguely remembered her from the night before.

She started, “If you need anything else...”

Needed anything else? I eyed the tray, full of foods different from the rest of the bowls and plates scattered around the table that the others were already doling out. The only thing I might need is a larger stomach.

“We’ll be sure to let it be known. But this is plenty, I promise, ” Callum said, his voice warmer than before.

His fingers flexed on my wrist, his thumb tracing the small red mark on the back of my hand. That orange scent grew stronger, vanilla weaving through it. This time I could feel my cheeks flush with heat. Why had he told me that that was my… my scent? Now it felt like every thought I had was on full display.

The group’s attention faded from us as the women walked away, disappearing deeper into the inn’s first floor. Callum dropped my wrist the next moment and set about eating. He took a piece of bread and slowly layered the various foods on it. I carefully mirrored that, too, trying to not look entirely out of my depth.

Aside from the bread, none of the foods were any I’d seen before. But when I took a bite, the concoction reminded me almost exactly of the lox I’d had in Maine just a few weeks ago. I had to breathe through the tears that threatened to fall, burning my eyes. This was different from the homesickness I felt that first travel night, though. Then I’d missed earth and missed Sloane. And while I still missed her, worried over her safety and wanted to get to her and protect her from whatever might be trying to harm her, a part of me was also already grieving losing this group of people, Amaria and Shelby and Reuben and Joseph. Even… even Callum.